


Daddy Can Never Stay Mad At His Angel

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Series: Destiel Daddies [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean overhears a conversation between his husband and daughter and jealousy rears its ugly head.  Leave it to Castiel to make it all better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy Can Never Stay Mad At His Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.

Dean opens his eyes, not quite sure what woke him up.  The bedroom is still dark.  For a second, his hand reaches for the gun in the nightstand.  Then he remembers, the gun hasn’t been kept in that spot in years. 

_Old habits die hard._

He sits up and stretches his hand back towards the other side of the bed, only to meet an empty bed.  Then he hears it again, a soft giggle and whispered words.  Dean sits up and climbs out of bed, pulling his robe on as he goes.  He hisses softly at the cold floor and mutters, making a mental note to put in radiant flooring with the next remodeling project.  Dean pads silently to his daughter’s bedroom.

He pauses in the hallway and is reaching to push the door open when he hears Zeppelin speak, “Why can’t he see, Papa?”  Dean shifts in the hallway and peers through the gap between the door and the frame; Cas is sitting on their daughter’s bed watching, a serene expression on his face, as she waves her hand in the air behind him.

Castiel says something in Enochian and the word for _human_ makes Dean realize Zeppelin is touching Cas’ wings.  No, not touching, she’s _petting_ them.  Castiel says something Dean doesn’t catch and it sets Zep to giggling again.  He watches his daughter reach out again and Cas’ eyes drift shut, a smile curling his lips.

Dean swallows hard.  The wave of envy that hits him is momentous.  He realizes how stupid it is, but he can’t stop the resentment that wells up inside him.  His daughter can see them.  Dean squeezes his eyes shut because of course she can see them.

_She’s part angel._

He takes a step back from the doorway and rushes back towards the master bedroom, one hand coming up to rub at his face, angrily wiping at the tears there.  Dean gets halfway down the hall but makes a detour downstairs instead.  A tiny sob escapes between his clenched lips as he steps into the kitchen.  He braces his hands on the island in the center of the room and takes a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself.

Dean’s still in the middle of looking through the cupboards when he feels a hand on his shoulder and a quiet, “If you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll help you.”

He pulls away and turns to glare at his husband, at the air above and around him.  He hisses cruelly, “I don’t want your help!  If I wanted your help, I would have asked for it.”

Castiel takes a step back from him, mouth dropping open in shock.  In the darkened kitchen, Dean can’t see most of Cas’ face, but a trick of light makes his blue eyes visible for a split-second.  What Dean sees is enough, though.  His husband is hurt.

_And you’re the one responsible._

Dean reaches for him, but Castiel lifts a hand to stop him and in the next second Dean hears something he hasn’t heard in almost two years: the flutter of wings.  And just like that, his husband’s gone.

It’s two hours later before Cas reappears in their bedroom.  Dean knows just how much time has passed because he’s staring at the alarm clock on the nightstand.  The bed dips under Castiel’s weight and Dean shuts his eyes when he feels his husband slip between the sheets.  He hears the small intake of breath and braces himself for his husband’s question, but it never comes.

Dean listens to the sound of Cas’ breathing.  The alcohol sits like a dead weight in his stomach and the tears he’s been fighting spill down his cheeks and onto the pillow beneath his head.  His tears are silent, or so he thinks.

Castiel’s eyes are open, face twisting at the pain he hears in his husband’s quiet sobs.  He turns over and moves up against Dean’s back, one hand sliding up and over his ribs.  Dean’s sobs cease and Cas presses a kiss to his nape.  His voice is a mere breath across his skin, “Tell me what’s wrong, please?”  Castiel shifts his hand to settle directly over his husband’s heart, pulling him back gently, their bodies slotting together perfectly.  “I can’t beg for forgiveness if you don’t tell me what I did wrong, _Limlal Obza._ ”

Dean looks over his shoulder, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Cas.” 

“Please do not lie to spare my feelings.”  Castiel noses the skin behind Dean’s ear, “You haven’t needed alcohol to blunt your feelings in over four years and yet,” he pauses, swallowing hard, “tonight you drank enough to dampen the bond between us.”

Dean stiffens in his embrace, “What do you mean?”

Cas’ hand rubs up and down over his husband’s chest, “When you are heavily intoxicated, I can’t sense your thoughts.”  His voice hitches, “Not accurately.  I still get vague…flashes, but it is nowhere near what I can usually see.”  Castiel sighs, “I don’t like it.  I don’t like not being able to tell if you’re okay.”

“It’s stupid.”  Dean shakes his head and whispers, “It’s petty and immature and I can’t believe I let myself get so worked up about it.”  Lips brush between his shoulder blades and he smiles at the flick of tongue on his skin, “I’m an idiot and we should just pretend tonight didn’t happen.  Deal?" 

A teasing bite precedes his husband’s answer, “No.  You will tell me what I did wrong or I will never again allow you to-“

“I saw you with Zep earlier.”  Cas stills behind him and Dean shuts his eyes as he speaks, “I saw her petting your wings.  I heard you tell her that the reason I couldn’t see them was because I was _cordziz_.”  Dean’s voice cracks and he allows Castiel to turn him in his embrace.  His husband’s hands cup his face and Dean whispers softly, “Is it wrong that I want to see them?”

Cas is quick to reassure him, “No, Dean.  It’s not wrong.”  Castiel presses their foreheads together and whispers back, “I wish you could see them, but you know what would happen.”

Dean interrupts him to mutter, “I don’t care.  If your wings were the last thing I saw, I wouldn’t care.“

“Don’t say that, Dean.”  Cas kisses the tip of his nose and sighs, “I can’t let you see them, but I’m willing to do the next best thing.  If you’d like?”

“And what’s that?”

Castiel rolls them over until he’s straddling Dean’s thighs.  He leans to whisper on his lips, “Close your eyes.”  Dean scowls but does as he’s asked.  “Now just relax.”  Dean complies and the room fills with a faint humming, slightly dissonant and then the flutter of wings.  Cas’ voice fills his head, _“You ready?”_

Dean nods and lets Castiel guide his hand to his shoulder and then further back.  He gasps when his fingertips meet feathers.  Dean caresses over them gently and he can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes him as his other hand meets its mate on Cas’ wings.  Castiel moans as Dean pets over the scapular feathers and then whines when his fingernails delve into the underside of them, “That feel good?”  Cas’ hips rock forward and Dean grins, repeating the gentle petting motion.  “What does my feathered husband like more, hmm?  Gentle,” Castiel tenses above him as Dean digs his fingers into the obviously sensitive skin below the feathers, “or not so gentle?”

The wings shift beneath his fingers and a gust of displaced air washes over them.  Cas growls, low in his throat, and Dean rakes his fingernails over the patch of skin located where both wings meet Castiel’s body.  His husband mutters something that sounds like Aramaic, but Dean doesn’t know for sure.  He smiles and allows Cas to pull him up to a sitting position, hands petting over the upper part of the unseen wings.  Dean has only ever seen their shadow, so he has an _idea_ of their size, but feeling just how big they is a different matter altogether.  He follows the upper border of them and laughs when they fold in to envelope him in a warm cocoon of feathers.

Dean whispers, “They’re beautiful.  Thank you.” 

Castiel wraps his arms around him, “You can’t even see them.  How do you know they are beautiful?”

The sensation of feathers along his exposed skin dissipates slowly, “I just do.”  There’s a faint brush of feathers along his cheek and then it’s gone.  Dean smiles, “What color are they?”

Cas chants a few words of Enochian before whispering in his ear, “You can open your eyes now.”  Dean nods and blinks his eyes open, gasping at his husband’s next statement, “See for yourself.”  Castiel is holding two feathers out towards him, “Take them.”

Dean reaches out and traces a fingertip over the dark blue iridescent feathers, “Are you sure?”  Cas nods.  “They’re blue.”

Castiel tilts his head, “Most of them, yes.”  He places both feathers in the palm of his hand and asks with a smile, “What color did you think they were?”

An embarrassed laugh bubbles up, “I, uh…I don’t know.”  Dean shrugs and admits, “White maybe?”

“Well, while some angels do have white plumage, it is rare.  Most have variations of color.  Mine for example, are a mix of that deep blue color, darker gray and numerous shades in between.”  Cas’ smile turns shy and he mumbles, “I even have a few that are pale gray, almost silver.”

Dean sets the two feathers aside to cup his face and tease gently, “Oooo my hubby has fancy silver feathers?”  Castiel’s cheeks warm under his palms and Dean can’t help but tease further, “Well how come I didn’t get one of _those_ pretty feathers?”

Cas looks up, mouth dropping open slightly in surprise, “I don’t have that many, Dean!  I’m sorry the majority of my feathers are ugly and boring.”

“Whoa, hey!”  Dean grabs both of Castiel’s wrists and tugs him forward, “I was kidding, Angelface.”  He kisses the angle of Cas’ jaw, “Your feathers are gorgeous.  Just like the rest of you.”

Castiel ducks his head, bottom lip caught between his teeth, “Really?”  Dean nods, a little surprised at the cautious tone in his husband’s voice when he asks, “You think my plumage is suitable?”

Dean leans in and kisses him, “I think it’s more than suitable.”  He picks up one of the feathers and traces it down the side of Cas’ neck.  The angel’s eyes flutter shut and Dean trails it lower, pausing to twirl it around one of Castiel’s nipples and then the other.  Cas sucks in a breath and leans back, hands bracing on the mattress behind him.  Dean slides the feather down further, the end of it dipping into his husband’s navel.  He unties the drawstring of Castiel’s sleep pants and tugs the waistband loose enough to reach inside.  “Your feathers are amazing and you’re remarkable.  My perfect fit.  You know that right?” _  
_

Cas licks his lips and nods, “Y-you may have mentioned that once or twice.”

Dean sits forward and flicks his tongue along the ridge of Castiel’s cock.  His husband’s body jerks and Dean grins as he licks again, slower this time.  Cas mutters something in Enochian and Dean chuckles.  He shifts slightly and greedily sucks Castiel down.  Cas fists a hand in his hair and thrusts up into his mouth, causing him to sputter and pull back, eyes watering, “Easy there, tiger.” 

Castiel’s eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused, “My apologies, Dean.  I just-“

“Shh, it’s fine.  I just wasn’t expecting it.”  He grins and strokes his hand upwards, “Did I get you all hot and bothered by touching your wings?”  The look on Cas’ face is enough of an answer, “Holy shit, no way!”  Castiel blushes brighter and Dean tightens his grip, fist working up and down as he speaks on his husband’s mouth, “All this time together and you’ve been holding out?”  Cas sits forward, hungrily deepening the kiss, hips thrusting into his fist.  Dean shakes his head and pulls back, “Get on your knees for me.”  Castiel looks at him curiously and Dean repeats, “I want you on your knees, Angel.”  Cas turns to obey, one hand bracing on the wall above the headboard.  Dean retrieves the lube from the nightstand before moving up behind him to whisper, “Do you trust me?”

Castiel nods, “Yes.”

Dean drags his teeth along the nape of Cas’ shoulder, “Good.”  He tilts his husband’s hips up and pours a line of slick between the cheeks of his ass.  “Now tell me, does it take a lot of concentration to manifest your wings?”  Cas gasps, whether from the question or from the feel of a finger breaching him, Dean will never know.  “I asked you a question, _Gassagen In.”  
_

“I know.”

Dean withdraws his finger and then presses it in roughly, “Well?”

There’s an audible swallow, painful sounding, “Not a lot.”  Castiel’s back dips further and he moans when Dean adds a second finger inside him, “W-why do you ask?”

A wicked grin curls Dean’s lip and he growls, “How about you let me worry about that?”  Cas nods eagerly and Dean wraps an arm around his throat, lips brushing his husband’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you so good, Angel.”

Castiel whines, his hand clawing desperately at the wall.  His hips rock backwards, words taunting, “Promises, promises.”

Dean laughs, “Mouthy little shit, aren’t you?”  Cas shrugs and Dean pulls his fingers free to fist around his dick, “Don’t forget that you asked for it.”

He pushes into his husband and groans when Castiel locks his elbow and slams his hips back roughly, “I won’t.”  Dean’s mouth drops open and Cas drops his head back onto his shoulder, eyes locking with his.

Dean kisses him, eyes fluttering shut.  The faint humming is back, but this time Dean is prepared for the feathers against his naked skin.  His hips thrust forward and he keeps his eyes shut but finds the edge of Castiel’s wings with both hands.  The sound Cas makes when Dean fits his hands along the upper curve of his wings goes straight to his cock.  “Put both hands on the wall, Angel.”  Castiel does as he’s told and Dean withdraws slowly, “Now stretch these pretty blue wings for me.”

The blast of displaced air hits him and he slams forward, hands tight on Cas’ wings.  Castiel chokes on a moan and Dean thrusts into him again, harder this time.  His husband growls in Enochian and Dean tugs him back by his wings, rutting into him.  Another string of unintelligible words escape Cas and Dean shifts his hips, ramming in deep.

“That what you want, Angel?”  Castiel whines and Dean growls, “That what you need?  For your human to fuck you so good you can’t even remember your own name?” 

Cas nods, rocking back into each thrust, “ _My_ human.”

Dean’s fingers dig into the underside of Castiel’s feathers and agrees, “Yes, _yours_.”  The temptation to open his eyes is almost too much so he presses his face into Cas’ neck, “Always.”

Castiel whispers his name and Dean’s not sure what he’s asking for but the swivel of his husband’s hips makes it irrelevant.  A second later, Dean is emptying into him, a hoarse cry muffling into Cas’ skin.  Castiel whimpers and shudders beneath him, “I love you.”

Dean smiles, fingers easing their grip, “I love you too, Baby.”  As he pets over his husband’s wings, the feathers shift and then disappear.  Dean opens his eyes and nuzzles against Castiel’s ear, “Why didn’t you tell me they were that sensitive?”

Cas makes a sound akin to a purr, “You never asked.”  Dean bites at Castiel’s neck and strokes him to completion, lips sucking a mark on the pale skin as the angel clenches around him.

Some twenty minutes later, both men are between the sheets, their legs tangled together.  Dean is combing his fingers through Cas’ disheveled hair and humming under his breath.  Castiel’s lips are curled in a tiny smile as he drifts off to sleep, secure within his husband’s embrace.  The next morning, when Dean wakes up, there is an envelope on the pillow next to him.  Cas’ handwriting is scrawled across the front of it: _I will be home in a few days.  Keep it safe for me._

Dean frowns and turns the envelope over.  He breaks the wax seal holding it shut and gasps softly when he pulls the flap open.  Inside the envelope is an eight-inch-long pale-gray, almost silver feather.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my trusty Enochian translator.
> 
>  _Limlal Obza_ \- Treasured One  
>  _cordziz_ \- human  
>  _Gassagen In_ \- Angel Mine


End file.
